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15 January 2007 : come on night
we have an unfortunate tendency to view change retrospectively.
we get used to that. we take it home and cuddle with it, make it our special banana smoothie in the morning. it's too many movies and too many books - when did we start expecting happy endings? when did it become necessary to tie up every possible loose end? a transition with a finish line so impossibly tight leaves no room for movement.
we've changed ourselves out of change, because we want those blue skies, that reconciliatory kiss. we want to look back on the last six months and say, "yeah, that was pretty dark - but look where we are now. it was all worth it."
i get that.
but don't you ever look up from a sentence or your teacup and think, HOLY CRAP. I'M IN TRANSITION AND I HAVE TO FIGURE IT OUT BEFORE ITS TOO LATE TO INFLUENCE ITS COURSE.
it's tough, honestly. transition, like most things, doesn't rely on the individual, but on the individual plus friends, family, coworkers, environment and climate. you can bear down as hard as you want and it doesn't mean you're going to be able to turn that wheel to the right. i've lived so much of my life carefully at 10 and 2 and i've still been left speechless with the violation shaking in my hand, unable to decipher its meaning.
and right now, well, right now i am looking forward. things are going to change, but they haven't yet. they haven't even started to change yet. but every morning i open my eyes, i know its going to happen. in six weeks, i leave the happiest home i've been able to make since leaving mom's at age 16. i didn't choose that - it was handed to me. four months after that, my gas tank inevitably marked full, i will head as far south as i've ever dared. i didn't choose that, either - it kind of chose me.
i know its coming. which gives me the time to sit back and think about how good its going to be. how bad its going to be. i can do anything. no-one knows me in lexington, kentucky. i could be new, different, british! i could jog a mile every morning, or cook myself balanced meals, or paint my living room bright red. i could suck up all my timidity and be friendly, frenzied, manic. i could be successful, i could take chances.
but i don't know what's going to happen. and i'm frustrated by sitting here in january, not knowing what february will bring. i do not like all of these things i've had to let fall from my hands. i do not like that i am making plans based on maybe. and i do not like that all of these decisions: where will i live, who will i see, what will i study? are being made by people who are not me.
because i think we can, and we should, choose. how things are going to go. who we are going to be. what we are going to love, and why. i've been doing a lot of that lately. i said, i'll be strong, and confident, i'll be wise and i'll be brave and i'll be ready. i had to fake it for a while, but it's getting easier. i started slow, with a boy, and decided to work my way up from there.
it's not always working out the way i hope - the most i've gotten was a couple of dizzy kisses on a dirty old couch that left me feeling simultaneously innocent, sixteen, brazen and busted.
but there are other situations to be diffused. and i'm done with looking forward worst case. maybe its just that i'm in the world's tiniest, most adorable coffeeshop right now, in a town in southern indiana that leaves no room for wondering. just another place i could make a life.
i like knowing that. here? lexington, memphis, tucson, birmingham? i could be new, i could be different. hell, i could be british.
so i'm just gonna stop waiting.
posted by lindsay at 13:38 ::
we have an unfortunate tendency to view change retrospectively.
we get used to that. we take it home and cuddle with it, make it our special banana smoothie in the morning. it's too many movies and too many books - when did we start expecting happy endings? when did it become necessary to tie up every possible loose end? a transition with a finish line so impossibly tight leaves no room for movement.
we've changed ourselves out of change, because we want those blue skies, that reconciliatory kiss. we want to look back on the last six months and say, "yeah, that was pretty dark - but look where we are now. it was all worth it."
i get that.
but don't you ever look up from a sentence or your teacup and think, HOLY CRAP. I'M IN TRANSITION AND I HAVE TO FIGURE IT OUT BEFORE ITS TOO LATE TO INFLUENCE ITS COURSE.
it's tough, honestly. transition, like most things, doesn't rely on the individual, but on the individual plus friends, family, coworkers, environment and climate. you can bear down as hard as you want and it doesn't mean you're going to be able to turn that wheel to the right. i've lived so much of my life carefully at 10 and 2 and i've still been left speechless with the violation shaking in my hand, unable to decipher its meaning.
and right now, well, right now i am looking forward. things are going to change, but they haven't yet. they haven't even started to change yet. but every morning i open my eyes, i know its going to happen. in six weeks, i leave the happiest home i've been able to make since leaving mom's at age 16. i didn't choose that - it was handed to me. four months after that, my gas tank inevitably marked full, i will head as far south as i've ever dared. i didn't choose that, either - it kind of chose me.
i know its coming. which gives me the time to sit back and think about how good its going to be. how bad its going to be. i can do anything. no-one knows me in lexington, kentucky. i could be new, different, british! i could jog a mile every morning, or cook myself balanced meals, or paint my living room bright red. i could suck up all my timidity and be friendly, frenzied, manic. i could be successful, i could take chances.
but i don't know what's going to happen. and i'm frustrated by sitting here in january, not knowing what february will bring. i do not like all of these things i've had to let fall from my hands. i do not like that i am making plans based on maybe. and i do not like that all of these decisions: where will i live, who will i see, what will i study? are being made by people who are not me.
because i think we can, and we should, choose. how things are going to go. who we are going to be. what we are going to love, and why. i've been doing a lot of that lately. i said, i'll be strong, and confident, i'll be wise and i'll be brave and i'll be ready. i had to fake it for a while, but it's getting easier. i started slow, with a boy, and decided to work my way up from there.
it's not always working out the way i hope - the most i've gotten was a couple of dizzy kisses on a dirty old couch that left me feeling simultaneously innocent, sixteen, brazen and busted.
but there are other situations to be diffused. and i'm done with looking forward worst case. maybe its just that i'm in the world's tiniest, most adorable coffeeshop right now, in a town in southern indiana that leaves no room for wondering. just another place i could make a life.
i like knowing that. here? lexington, memphis, tucson, birmingham? i could be new, i could be different. hell, i could be british.
so i'm just gonna stop waiting.
Labels: Two steps forward, When I grow up
posted by lindsay at 13:38 ::
3 Comments:
oh, do be british! what a lark!
By 
, at
8:14 PM
I believe in your ability to cook!
If I can cook, anyone can cook. And I started cooking once I moved across the country, which you can take as a sign of some kind if you like.
love,
emily
I vote for displaced Irish 'cause that's hot. :)
Also, I disagree with red - it causes insomnia.
By , at
6:48 PM